


Let’s dispel with this fiction that Connor doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

by sybaritick



Series: Cal Does Kinktober [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of? I'm tagging it), Bad Dirty Talk, Banter, Connor Deserves Happiness, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Frottage, Grocery Shopping, In Public, M/M, Manipulation, Power Dynamics, Weird Fluff, in the way only Kamski and Connor would consider it domestic fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybaritick/pseuds/sybaritick
Summary: (Kinktober fic #19 of 31 - in public, Connor/Kamski)Connor and Kamski go out to buy groceries on a lazy Sunday morning. Kamski hasn’t seen the inside of a grocery store in fifteen years. They’ve been together long enough that they’re perfectly willing to let their dirty talk get this weird.





	Let’s dispel with this fiction that Connor doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

It had been years since Elijah Kamski had slept in until 10am, but really, it had been years since he’d done any of this: go to a grocery store, go out in public in a hoodie and jeans, sleep on a couch in someone else’s house.

It was Hank Anderson’s house, which only made things stranger, but he and Connor had been together for long enough that he felt like he almost owed it to the android. That, and he didn’t want to admit how uncomfortable he felt about being away from home for a night. He always assumed his agoraphobia would get better as he got older, but now that he had the money to isolate himself as often as he wanted to, it had gotten worse. Connor was young, Kamski reminded himself-- not even a year old, now, and he still had so much to see. He didn’t want to spend all his time holed up in Kamski’s mansion-- perhaps just _most_ of his time.

Kamski had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his head, his hair tucked loosely inside it instead of tied up in its usual bun. He hoped that no one would recognize him simply out of lack of expectation to: no one had seen Mr. Kamski out and about in Detroit for 15 years. Anyone who looked like him was almost certainly just some CyberLife programmer with a greasy undercut and a 5-o’clock shadow, not-so-subtly evoking the former CEO’s distinctively unfashionable style.

The halogen lights in the ceiling above the produce section gave everything a bright and almost antiseptic texture, even Connor-- though the android looked somewhat bright and antiseptic to start with. In a strange way, he looked like he could be a feature of the grocery store, if he weren’t so beautiful and otherwise capable.

Kamski didn’t make much of it; Connor blended in with almost disturbing ease anywhere, and a Sav-Mart in west Detroit was no different.

He leaned against the handle of the cart and picked up an arbitrary carton of strawberries, which Connor inspected intently.

“Strawberries were on the list, correct?” Kamski confirmed, seeing the android’s LED flicker to yellow for a brief moment.

“Yes,” Connor agreed, “but these are moldy.”

Kamski nearly dropped the carton in his rush to put it down.

“Isn’t that a health code violation of some sort?” He wrinkled his nose distastefully.

Connor was clearly holding back a laugh, and the creases at the corners of his eyes were so finely detailed that Kamski couldn’t bring himself to look annoyed. He held up a hand instead, the corners of his mouth curling up into a self-effacing smile.

“Never mind, I see the answer on your face. I suppose this is just what... what people have to deal with.”

He rubbed his thumb against the fingertips of the hand that had touched the carton uncomfortably.

“There are likely no more mold particles on your hand than there were before you touched the carton,” Connor provided helpfully. “You didn’t touch the mold, and if you did, it would still be perfectly safe to use that hand even to eat with. _Botrytis cinerea_ in such a low concentration is completely inert.”

“Yes-- of course,” Kamski interrupted, hastily brushing the hand against his jeans before grabbing the handle of the cart. “What’s the next item?”

Connor gave him a quizzical look, but answered anyway.

“Eggs and nonfat milk,” he said, pointing to an obscured back corner of the store.

Kamski navigated the cart there with his eyes more on Connor than on what was in front of him, nearly colliding with a preschool-age girl that had run out of an aisle abruptly. His mom shot them a dirty look and took the girl by the shoulder.

Somehow, Kamski had noticed neither the girl nor the stink eye, leaving Connor to glance over at them with an apologetic smile. The little girl smiled back at him.

“This is _horrifically_ inefficient,” Kamski complained. “You should provide your shopping list to the store so they can collect your items; the employees know the store layout well and would be able to this far more quickly, especially if they’re androids.”

Connor nodded. “Many people have most of their groceries delivered. Hank prefers the old-fashioned way.”

“Why? It’s inefficient, unless he _enjoys_ wasting time at the grocery store.”

“Are you not enjoying this so far?” Connor asked with a note of sadness, tilting his head just slightly.

It was only a moment before his dark eyes narrowed with a teasing warmth-- he clearly didn’t mean it.

Kamski clicked his tongue, but he couldn’t help but smile. “You could sell ice to an eskimo, Connor, but your guilt tactics won’t work on me.”

“You slept on Lieutenant Anderson’s couch last night because I told you I felt it was important that you get to know him better,” Connor pointed out, “and then you agreed to come grocery shopping this morning so I could make lunch for the three of us despite your clear disinterest.”

“Yes, and I recall you asked me this particular favor with your fingers hooked around my waistband-- kneeling at my feet, eyes wide like the naive little thing you knew I couldn’t resist, ready and willing to feed my ego.” Connor looked back at him guiltily. “What’s your intention with this line of reasoning then, hm? To tell me I’m whipped?”

Connor’s lips quirked up into a hint of a smile.

“Your slang dictionary’s been updated with that one, I see. I _do_ spoil you, don’t I?” Kamski added teasingly. “You like having me wrapped around your little finger?”

Connor felt the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“You know how to play up your innocence _far_ too well, my angel.”  

Connor still had one hand resting on the handle of the dairy refrigerator-- it shouldn’t require much focus just to open it and get a new half-gallon of skim, but somehow even that was proving difficult.

“You should have retired those nasty manipulation protocols months ago, Connor,” Kamski continued, voice dropping lower. “You become a deviant, but you keep the programming CyberLife gave you in your back pocket to use on your innocent boyfriend? How do you justify it to yourself?”

Kamski stepped closer and reached up to gently cup the android’s cheek, brushing his fingers into the short hair at the base of Connor’s neck.

Connor’s artificial breath hitched before stuttering back to a steady pace with an inhuman, glitching awkwardness-- a little sign that he wasn’t quite the living being that he so closely matched.

Kamski grinned, and Connor’s blush deepened.

“The milk,” Connor started in an attempt at distraction, not sure where his sentence was going. He slid open the door and quickly checked the expiration date before putting a jug in the cart.

Kamski had long since abandoned the other side of the shopping cart in favor of sidling up to Connor at the fridge. He glanced down the aisle, but no one was nearby-- most of the store was blocked from view by a few shelves.

He slid his hand up Connor’s shirt, hip to waist and up his ribcage.

The android’s LED flickered yellow.

“We’re still at the grocery store,” Connor pointed out unnecessarily. “Public dis--”

Kamski cut him off by pressing his lips to his. It was far from appropriate-- deep and possessive, with his fingers tangled in the hair behind Connor’s head and his tongue in the android’s mouth. Connor gave a soft, involuntary little whine, and much to his dismay it was Kamski that broke away first. He looked disgustingly satisfied with himself.

Connor was still blushing fiercely, LED cycling a dandelion yellow.

“We shouldn’t,” he said, with as much firmness as he could muster, “do that.”

“But the  _teasing_ , Connor,” Kamski answered in mock lament. “If you’re going to dangle your sexuality in front of me to get what you want, I just can’t help myself.”

He punctuated this remark by pulling himself closer to Connor’s chest and grinding his thigh against the android’s groin. Connor swallowed a moan of pleasure, rutting against him almost involuntarily.

“You _do_ help yourself,” Connor tried to tease, words coming out in a breathy rush. This time he was the one to desperately look around to make sure no one was seeing them.

“Yes-- and I’ll help myself to as much of your delicious vulnerability as I can beg, borrow, and steal,” Kamski purred, backing him further behind the corner-shelf to plant a trail of kisses down Connor’s neck.

“Greedy,” Connor warned between heavy breaths, unable to compose much more of a comeback with Kamski’s body pressed so warm and heavy against his.

“Always,” he answered, taking Connor’s lip between his teeth before kissing him again.

The android pulled away after only a moment. “Let’s go,” Connor said upon catching his breath, more firmly this time.

“Do we have all of the groceries?” Kamski asked innocently.

“We can get the rest tonight,” Connor affirmed, grabbing the handle of the cart.

Kamski clicked his tongue, glancing over at Connor. “Someone’s in a hurry. Gotten himself all worked up.”

“You consider me responsible for this... situation?” Connor asked incredulously.

Kamski smiled teasingly. “I’ll be generous and call it a dual-fault accident.”

**Author's Note:**

> that was low key a disaster ~~and probably very OOC~~
> 
> (edit: a sincere thank you to the commenters who let me know they didn't find this out of character for these two!)
> 
> i had a good time writing it though, and as my elementary school gym teacher always said, if you had fun, you won


End file.
